


Do You Remember When We First Met?

by Bloodysyren



Category: Good Game (TV 2017)
Genre: Conversations, Drinking, M/M, Nervousness, New Friends, Strangers, Vomiting, why do I let myself drink so much?, you're the only regular at this bar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:55:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25258051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bloodysyren/pseuds/Bloodysyren
Summary: Ryland is new. He goes to a local bar to unwind and check out the neighborhood. The smallest things can lead to huge changes.
Relationships: Ryland/Alex Taylor (Good Game)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Do You Remember When We First Met?

Ryland was feeling lonely. His new apartment was practically barren. He stretched out on the couch and stared up at the ceiling. He wasn't really a party person, but he figured a little human contact couldn't hurt. He had seen a local bar down the street a few blocks. A stiff drink would do him good.

He stood up and stretched, cracking his sore joints. Grabbing his jacket, he pocketed his keys and headed out for a new, slightly hesitant, adventure. The walk was bracing in the cooling air, on the edge of Fall chill. He pushed open the door to the bar and a pleasant hum and warmth flowed through the entrance. The place was nearly packed.

A few people turned to see the newcomer, but most were lost in their conversations and beverages. Ryland found an open spot at the end of the bar. There was just one other guy at the short end, his wild mane obscuring his face. Ryland swallowed nervously,

"Hey, uh, is anyone sitting here?" He questioned, not prepared for the dark laughing eyes and killer smile that the lanky stranger tossed his way.

"Not at all, pull up a seat, man." The guy was nursing a glass of what looked like whiskey, but Ryland had always been terrible with alcohol. He rarely drank, and when he did he rarely enjoyed it. He mostly had a beer or two with whatever friends were around at the time, but being in a new place, the familiar faces were absent and he was glad even for a stranger's company at this point.

"You seem new. What brings you to this little corner of the world?" The stranger sipped his drink again and leaned his head in his hand, staring. Ryland fidgeted under the stranger's piercing gaze, but the guy seemed pretty genuine, so Ryland took a ballsy chance.

"I actually just moved in down the street, came to check out the rest of the neighborhood." He said, glancing around at the other patrons.

"Well, we're glad you're here." The guy seemed like a regular. The bartender refilled his drink without even being asked. The guy flashed that disarming smile again and nursed his drink.

"Can I get the new guy anything?"

"Oh, uh...a..." Ryland had never been good at this sort of thing. He ran a hand through his hair and ran his thumb over the bar top, "A screwdriver, I guess?" The guy raised a finger and the bartender sauntered over.

"The new guy wants a screwdriver." He said with a smirk. The bartender brought Ryland a sweating cold glass. He sipped at it gingerly, letting the sharp tang of the alcohol slide across his tongue. They nursed their drinks for long comfortable minutes. Ryland was content with the friendly stranger's company. He had been nervous walking in, but the easy attitude of the guy next to him put him nearly at his ease.

"My treat." The guy said confidently as Ryland gaped.

"I-I can't let you do that..." He started to protest, but the guy tossed a twenty on the counter and slid out of his chair after the bartender had safely taken his cash.

"Gotta hit the head." He said to no one in particular, patting Ryland on the shoulder as he moved wobbly towards the restrooms. Ryland watched him for a long moment and went back to his drink. The bartender came over asking about refills and Ryland couldn't help but ask.

"Hey, uh. That guy I was next to...is he...a regular?" The bartender smirked and wiped down the counter, effortlessly mixing a drink for another customer.

"Who? Alex? Yeah, I guess you could say that." The bartender confirmed, "Practically seems like he lives here some days." He couldn't keep a cheeky smile off of his face. Ryland looked towards the bathroom. Alex hadn't come back.

"Is he normally a heavy drinker?" Ryland didn't quite know why he was pressing, but any information was useful somehow, right?

"He could put a fish to shame." The bartender chuckled again, "You want another?"

"No, thank you. I'm good for tonight." Ryland slid a few dollars under his empty glass and moved towards the bathroom. He pushed open the door and crinkled his nose. Public bathrooms weren't the cleanest at the best of times. In comparison, bar bathrooms, no matter how pristine were always a potential war zone.

"Alex?" Ryland asked to the sterile-looking cubicle stalls and the one well-used urinal. He heard the wet splatter of vomit in response. He walked to the closest stall and pushed open the door. Alex was hunched over the toilet, looking like an abandoned puppy.

_Don't fucking do this to me, man_ , Ryland thought.

"Hey, newbie." Alex droned, eyes swimming with booze as he hugged the toilet bowl, wiping a gross-looking line of drool from his chin.

"One too many?" Ryland was being as kind as he could. The guy had paid for his drink and gotten the gamer out of his shell tonight. He at least owed Alex the courtesy of a check in.

"I've had worse..." The lanky guy leaned into the toilet and heaved up the remaining 80-proof contents of his stomach.

"Come on, man," Ryland didn't know why he felt so compassionate towards the stranger, but he joined Alex in the small stall and swept that curly mane into his hands as Alex dry-heaved. The bathroom smelled like cleaner and mistakes. Alex wiped his chin with the back of his hand and fumbled with the toilet handle, flushing the evidence of his poor choices out of sight.

"Can you stand up for me?" Ryland gripped Alex's clean hand and hauled him to his feet. The lanky guy stumbled into Ryland's bulky frame and their eyes met for a moment. Ry thought that there was probably more alcohol in Alex's body than blood right now with the way his eyes were swimming.

"Here..." He led Alex over to the sinks and steadied him as he washed his hands and rinsed out his mouth.

"Well, aren't you the good Samaritan..." Alex's voice was a little clearer and Ryland slung one of his arms across his shoulders and walked him back out to the bar. He stopped at the counter and ordered a tall glass of water, watching as Alex slowly drank at least half of it.

Alex slid a few big bills over the counter and stood on half-steady legs as Ryland followed him out into the cool night. Alex leaned against the wall, breathing in the crisp fresh air, filling his lungs like incense.

"Did you have any plans for tonight other than babysitting a smashed stranger? What's your name anyway?"

"Ryland." It had slipped from his mouth like he was spitting it out. He didn't need to give his real name, but after learning Alex's name, he figured it was only fair.

"I didn't really have any plans after this, no." Ry admitted, pushing off of the wall and shoving his hands in his pockets. He was starting to shiver a little and glanced towards home.

"Did you have a ride, or...?" Ryland asked, hoping that Alex's car was around the corner, but he secretly wished that he could spend more time getting to know the real Alex, not the alcohol-infused version.

"Nah, man, I walked over tonight."

"I have some coffee at my place if you wanted something more than booze in your stomach?" Ryland fisted his hands in his jacket pockets and cursed mentally: _What are you doing!? Jumping at a chance just because he was the first person who was fucking nice to you?! This is how people get murdered_

Alex's genuine, ever-present smile made another appearance and Ryland's heart tightened with anticipation.


End file.
